


Through the Dark

by AltruisticSkittles



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, Dot and Larry - Freeform, Dr. Emile Picani - Freeform, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, More Tags to be added as I go, One-Sided Relationship, Remy Sanders - Freeform, Roman and Remus are twins, Secret Admirer, Secret Relationship, Tutoring, bonus characters include, logan is thomas's son, multiple OCs - Freeform, patton is dot and larry's son, they get better tho i promise, thomas sanders - Freeform, two of which are kinda important but not really, yeah Deceit Remus and Virgil are kinda dicks at the beginning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2020-10-12 13:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20565200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltruisticSkittles/pseuds/AltruisticSkittles
Summary: Ah, senior year. The golden year of High School. The year where Princes become Kings, Jocks become Gods, and Class Clowns become Legends. It's the year of self-discovery (or lack of), the year of make it or break it, the year where you have 9 months to leave a lasting impression.It's the year where the star running back is failing Biology and has to get help from the person who he made life a living hell for the past 3 years.It's the year where the coolest guy in school watches a rising star and falls into a secret relationship that not even the star knows about.It's the year where moral enemies are forced to work together if they want to make it through the year.Love it or hate it, this senior year is going to be the one that trumps them all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello there! Fancy meeting you here. Who thought I'd write an Enemies to Lovers to Friends AU? Not me, I'll tell you that much. I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm trying and I'm taking you all down with me. :D
> 
> Just letting you know, Virgil, Remus, and Deceit (Damian) are not exactly nice in the beginning, so if you're not into redemption arcs, this story is probably not for you. There's also a relationship between two female OCs, but it's not the main focus... kinda a background bonus. :)
> 
> Now without further ado, please sit back and relax as I try to write a fluff fic :D

Damian let his motorbike roll to a halt and turned off the engine. He pulled his helmet off his head, gave his thick hair a shake to sweep it from his eyes, and dismounted it. The leather over his shoulders hissed as he moved. He put the kickstand up and twirled the golden glinting snake key chain around his finger.

Heads of all shapes, sizes, and color turned to him. Some greeted him with a coy smile, some ducked their heads in submission while trying not to maintain eye contact, and some offered their hands to high five or fist bump him.

Ah, his kingdom. And what kind of king would he be if he didn’t bask in their adoration?

Damian acknowledged those who mattered and ignored the others. He tucked his helmet under his arm and put his sunglasses over his eyes. Really, his heterochromatic eyes were what made him the heartthrob of all the school (you know, if you cut out the star player of the football team from his title) but they made him look too mysterious to resist. One couldn’t easily see into his soul when his eyes were covered. He could blend in. He could be one of them.

He caught the real people he was looking for standing at the top of the school stairs. Damian raised his head high and strutted down the cobblestone pathway.

The first one draped himself across the stone railing, his thumb scrolling through his phone. Every once and a while, he’d read something that brought a smirk to his face, but he moved on without another word. His patched jacket, torn shirt, and ripped jeans gave off an air that he couldn’t care whether you loved or hated him.

The second one was perched on the stone by the balls of his feet, his sneakers untied like normal, and dangling over the side. He chewed obnoxiously on gum (at least Damian hoped it was gum) and draped his arms over his kneecaps. His spiked hair didn’t move in the almost Autumn breeze, but his head did turn to catch Damian approaching the stairs.

“Well, good morning King of Darkness,” he greeted.

“Good morning, Duke,” Damian responded. He turned to the other and responded, “Good morning, Prince.”

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled, not looking up from his phone.

“Aww, but Virgil,” the other said as he jumped off his perch. He slung one arm around Virgil and one around Damian. Virgil curled his lip in annoyance, and Damian rose a brow. He continued, “what’s a little dark humor between family?”

“You guys are not my family,” Virgil mumbled back.

Damian’s lips curled into a smirk. “Speaking of family, where is your little brother, Remus?”

“Oh, the positively perfect pixie?” Remus purred. He turned his head over the stair railing and replied, “Last I knew he was running after my car as I drove out of the driveway.”

Virgil snorted. Damian shook his head and chucked.

“Oh, you really are evil, aren’t you?”

“Guilty as charged.”

The bell rang, and the trio walked into the school together. Floors so polished with wax reflected everything like a distorted funhouse mirror. If you inhaled deep enough with your mouth open, you could taste the Lysol in the air. People chattered amongst friends and caught up with acquaintances they hadn't seen over the summer. 

Remus picked one person in particular out in the crowd and slammed them against the lockers with his left hand. His victim's face squished against the lockers, and their glasses creaked against the pressure. They groaned and let their eyes shut. 

"Good morning, Logey bear!" Remus chirped. He dug his elbow into Logan's back as he leaned against Logan, his fist propping his head up. "You ready for senior year? That is if you live through it. I heard the student suicide rate rose 2% last year. Isn't that fascinating?" 

Logan groaned and attempted to push Remus's elbow off his back, but he failed. "Hello, Remus."

"Oh, good, you remembered me! I'm honestly flattered."

"How can I forget the person who has made my life a living nightmare for the past three years?" 

"Soon to be four," Remus responded. "Hey, you're short two nerds! Where are the other two?" 

"You're Roman's brother. You tell me."

"Oh no, I don't mean them. Roman's probably still on Elm Street running for his life." Remus laughed at that. "No, I meant Pattycakes and Cassienova." 

"Remus!"

As if on cue, the two people in question approached, looking like a squad of irritated teddy bears. The boy, Patton, looked like he just stepped off a golf course. The girl, Cassie, wore a dress so bright it’d put the sun to shame, and her black curls bobbed up and down as she stormed towards them.

“Let Logan go,” Patton ordered.

“Or what? You’ll bore me to death with good manners?” Remus asked with a laugh.

Cassie marched up to him next, her finger pointed in his face. He watched her move and quirked a disinterested smile and dared her to bring her worst. She growled, “Remus, you let him go right now, or-”

The first bell rang, warning everyone they had to be in homeroom soon.

Remus sighed and removed his elbow from Logan’s back. Logan scrambled away from the locker, adjusted his glasses, and scowled at his previous captor.

“Fine. I was tired of playing anyway,” Remus said with a wave of his hand. Virgil snorted through his nose, put his headphones up over his ears, and followed Remus down the hall. Damian watched as Logan’s two friends went to his side, both examining if he was alright. Patton shot Damian a rather nasty glare, but Damian merely rolled his eyes and walked away.

“Are you okay, Logan?” Patton asked.

“I’m fine,” Logan said with a sigh. He straightened out his shirt. “I’m used to Remus by now. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t locate me sooner.”

“The big jerk,” Cassie spat. “If he wasn’t the football team’s running back, he’d be expelled for sure.”

Patton asked, “Have you seen Roman this morning?”

“I have not,” Logan responded. He recalled what Remus said, and he winced, “but I believe I know why. From my earlier conversation with Remus, he made Roman walk to school this morning.”

Patton looked at Cassie, “I knew I should’ve asked dad to pick him up.”

“It’s not your fault, Patton. You couldn’t have predicted that.”

Cassie added, “Yeah. Besides, Roman is a fast runner. I’m sure he’ll be here in no time.”

As they spoke, the second bell to send everyone to homeroom rang. Students scattered like sheep so they wouldn’t be marked absent. Like a fish going upstream, a boy pushed his way through and excused himself. His forehead glistened with sweat, and he inhaled air like a cactus absorbed water in the rain.

“Roman!” Patton cried out. He raced over to check his friend. “Are you okay?”

“That absolute villain!” Roman yelled. Patton fussed Roman’s hair back into place as Logan pulled a tissue out of his pocket to dab Roman’s forehead. “He made me run to school! Of all the dirty deeds. Why did I think he’d actually give me a ride to school? And now my foundation is running everywhere-”

“Shh,” Patton said as he pressed a finger to Roman’s lips. “We can talk about this more at lunch.”

Roman huffed in annoyance. He pulled out his schedule and looked at the room numbers. “I guess so.”

“Have a good day,” Patton chirped as he started to walk away. Logan gave a brief nod before heading off in his own direction. Roman sent Cassie a look, and the two of them traveled down the hall together.

“At least I have someone I know in my homeroom,” Cassie said. Roman hummed in acknowledgment. And as the two of them rounded the corner, they both groaned to find a familiar person with dark bags under their eyes and headphones still covering their ears glaring at them.

“Oh great, the Prince of Darkness is here,” Roman grumbled.

Lucky for them, Virgil didn’t seem too keen on acknowledging either one of them. They took their seats in the front as far away from Virgil as they could get and waited for the teacher to begin calling out names.

As they minded their own business, a small object hit the back of Roman’s head. It didn’t hurt, but it caught his attention. He turned his head and caught Virgil smirking in the back. A few other students looked mildly amused and snickered. Roman sent a glare and turned back in his seat.

Another piece of paper hit the back of Roman’s head. He clenched his teeth and hands.

“Just ignore it,” he mumbled under his breath. Cassie sent him a worried look from her seat beside him. Roman sent her a smile back just as another piece of paper clipped his forehead. He folded his head into his arms and let out a long sigh.

It was going to be a long year.

\--

The first thing Damian realized when he entered his Psychology class was they had a new teacher this year. No one knew who this Mr. Picani was, what he was like, or what his teaching style was. All they knew was he’d be easy to mess with. 

The second thing Damian realized when he entered his Psychology class was none of his friends were there. He specifically told them both to pick Psychology so he wouldn’t be alone. Thankfully, a few football team members were there, so he wasn’t totally alone, but he’d rather have Virgil or Remus to stir up trouble.

The third thing Damian realized when he entered his Psychology class was there were tables instead of desks with two seats at each table, and the only seat available was one next to a very annoyed Patton Shea watching him walk into the room. Obviously, he came to the same conclusion, and neither of them was happy about it.

Damian sat beside Patton and set his backpack on the floor with a heavy thump. A few football players sent him amused and pitying looks, and he resisted the urge to flip them off. The teacher walked into the room and cleared his throat.

“Good morning! My name is Mr. Picani, and welcome to Psychology 101. I think it’s mighty nice that you all decided to take this class as an elective, even if most of you are probably taking it only to graduate. It’s going to be a great year!”

Great, he reminded Damian of the very person he despised the most in this classroom.

The person in question hung on this Mr. Picani’s every word. Patton took notes, even when he wasn’t prompted, and had this attentive look that Damian absolutely despised. What a suck up. What a teacher’s pet. What a-

Wait, what did Mr. Picani just say?

Whatever Patton was doing, he snapped his head up, a look of disbelief on his face as well. He glanced at Damian out of the corner of his eye and then back at the teacher. A few groans sounded throughout the room.

“And it’ll be 25% of your grade for the semester, so I hope you work together and do your best,” Mr. Picani finished.

The bell to end the class rang, and students started to gather their things to move on. Patton hurried to grab his books and pulled his messenger bag over his shoulder. Damian grumbled as he situated his backpack.

“Hello, Mr. Picani, I’m Patton Jo-Shea. Patton Shea,” Patton introduced and held out his hand.

“Ah, Larry’s boy! He told me you’d be in this class,” Mr. Picani said as he took Patton’s hand to shake. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“And you too,” Patton said. He bounced on his toes. “Um, about that last assignment-”

“Oh don’t worry! You can pick any topic you want,” Mr. Picani informed.

“It’s not that,” Patton said with a nervous laugh. “You said that- well if I had known about that last rule where your table mate was your partner-”

Mr. Picani’s smile fell. He tilted his head to the side. “You have a problem with your partner?”

“Well, yeah,” Patton chuckled. “We’re not exactly… friends.”

“We actually hate each other,” Damian added as he stood beside Patton. For once, Patton didn’t seem to shy away from him or send any rude glares. For once, they were in agreement on something.

“Well,” Mr. Picani said, “if you can find two people to switch partners with you, I have no problem letting one exception fall through, especially since no one started the assignment yet.”

“Oh, thank you!” Patton said with a sigh of relief. He adjusted the strap on his shoulder. After casting one last glance at Damian, he walked out of the classroom.

Damian sent a wary glance at Mr. Picani and sighed. “Honestly, you expect everyone to work together just because they sat next to each other?”

“Well, I believe there’s a reason you all chose your seats,” Mr. Picani replied.

“It was the last one left.”

“Next time, don’t be late.”

Damian glared at Mr. Picani, who sent him a sickeningly sweet smile. Damian rolled his eyes and walked out of the classroom. He hoped at least someone would be willing to switch with him. The thought of being stuck with the boy scout mascot made him want to puke. 

If he was stuck with Patton for the assignment, it was going to be a hell of a year.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian talks about the events that occurred in Psychology with his friends. Patton takes a stand against Remus, and it goes just as well as everyone expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: mentions of passing out, animal dissection mention, it's lunchtime so there's multiple food mentions and eating, bullying, unsympathetic teachers, fighting  
Word count: 2709

“Can you believe it?” Damian mumbled as he took a bite of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He gave it a less than deserved glare as he swallowed. “Me with that goody two shoes Patton Shea for the rest of the semester. No one will even switch with me.”

“That’s rough, buddy,” Virgil mumbled as he stirred his fries in his ketchup. 

“Look at it this way. You could’ve gotten worse,” Remus reminded him as he flung his spoon around, not really caring if he got mayonnaise everywhere.

Damian sighed and set his sandwich down. He took a sip of his milk before speaking. “It’s not like I can just fail the assignment on purpose to mess with him. They’ll kick me off the football team.”

“Take one for the team?” Remus offered before Deceit shoved him hard. Remus merely laughed in response.

“It’s just an assignment. Don’t be such a baby,” Virgil grumbled. “I had to work with Patton before. He’s… not terrible. But don’t ask him to dissect anything. He’ll pass out.”

“Now that’s something I’d like to see,” Remus chirped.

“You would,” a feminine voice spoke behind them. Arms draped around Damian’s shoulders, and the smell of floral perfume filled the air, overpowering whatever musk Remus sported today. Blood red lips smiled as too long eyelashes batted a cool breeze against Damian’s skin.

“Hello, Mara,” Damian greeted as she swung around his neck to press her side into his hip. She leaned her head onto Damian’s shoulder.

“What did I miss?” she asked.

“Most of lunch,” Virgil retorted. 

Mara rolled her eyes and crossed a leg over the other, her miniskirt not leaving much to the imagination. She pulled out a salad from her bag and poured a small bit of strawberry vinegarette onto it.

“So,” she purred as she stole a fry from Virgil’s lunch, earning a growl from Virgil, “everyone enjoying their first day of school?”

“Not exactly,” Damian responded. He relayed the events that occurred in Psychology, and Mara merely laughed. Virgil mentioned Roman was in his homeroom, which piqued Remus’s curiosity. Remus suggested throwing spitballs next time and handed Virgil a straw.

“You three are positively awful,” Mara mumbled.

“Like you’re any better,” Damian responded.

“Hey, I have a reputation to keep up, and if being the school bitch is it, then I’m gonna do my best to represent. Oh, and my parents want us to have dinner again Thursday.”

Damian cringed at the thought. He sighed and put his sandwich away, his stomach gurgling. “I really don’t want to do this right before the first game of the season.”

“If I have to suffer, so do you,” Mara mumbled. She stabbed her salad a little harder than it deserved, but she had to take her anger out on something. 

Damian curled his lips. He caught the pitying look from both Remus and Virgil, and he cleared his throat. He stood up and grabbed his lunch tray.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” Damian grumbled. He walked up toward the trash to throw his food away. From the corner of his eye, he could see Patton and his gang of teacher’s pets sitting at their own table, and he scoffed under his breath. As he passed, he tried not to eavesdrop on their conversation. He didn’t fail to notice how they lowered their voices as he came by.

“-any way to change it?” Logan asked.

“No. No one wants to switch,” Patton mumbled.

Cassie gave him a sideways hug and said, “It’s alright, Patton. I’m sure you’ll get through it. He can’t be as bad as people make him out to be, right?”

“He’s not Remus,” Logan mumbled.

“And it’s not Virgil,” Roman added.

“I’ve worked with Virgil before. He’s not too bad,” Patton responded as he pushed the peas around on his plate. He quieted as Damian walked past, both their eyes locking for a brief moment. Patton looked away first and glared at his peas. Once Damian was out of earshot, he added, “My problem with Damian is he lets those three get away with whatever they want. He lets Remus beat up Logan. He lets Virgil harass you. He doesn’t say anything when Mara is picking on Cassie. He just stands there and lets his friends be awful.”

“Not to mention he’s good at lying to keep his friends out of trouble,” Cassie added.

“That too,” Patton said.

“Who knows? Maybe you working on this project with him will change his heart,” Roman offered with as bright of a smile as he could muster.

“Maybe,” Patton mumbled. He didn’t want to believe Damian was a totally bad person, but he didn’t want to give him the benefit of the doubt either. Damian had tons of chances to prove his worth as a decent person, but every time he decided to stand up for the wrong people. He was too much of a coward to do what was right, and it irritated Patton more than he’d like to admit. It wasn’t fair that someone who dedicated their whole life to lying was captain of the football team, practically untouchable by the school board because of his father, and got away with everything because people didn’t want to stand up against him.

The ten minute warning bell rang, and Patton put his garbage onto his tray. He unloaded his trash into the garbage can and handed it over to the cafeteria lady, who smiled and welcomed him back to school. Patton sent a kind smile and turned his head, just in time to see Logan pulling himself off the side of the garbage can.

“Hey!” Patton shouted. 

Remus held eye contact with Patton as he dumped his tray of chicken noodle soup over Logan’s head. A burst of heat lit in Patton’s stomach. He charged forward, ignoring the lunch lady’s cry for him to wait, and tackled Remus around the stomach. The two of them crashed into the floor. Cheers and whoops from other students cried out throughout the room, the word “fight” echoing like a drumbeat. 

Patton remembered Remus’s fingers clawing at his face. He remembered his heart pounding in his ears as he grabbed Remus by the shirt and lifted his torso off the ground. He remembered being pulled away by Roman and Logan, who was still dripping wet. He remembered Damian and Virgil helping Remus up.

“Patton, enough,” Logan whispered in his ear.

Only then did Patton stop seeing red and notice the teacher storming towards them.

“What’s going on here?” the teacher growled as she approached them. She glared at the two students over the top of her glasses.

“Patton attacked me!” Remus barked.

“You shoved Logan into the garbage can and dumped soup on his head,” Patton defended.

“Enough! Both of you in Mr. Siesta’s office,” she snapped. Patton opened his mouth to argue, but a finger point and a rough shove of the shoulder urged him forward. The teacher thankfully stopped Damian and Virgil from following, but she also stopped Roman and Logan. There went his backup.

It wasn’t the first time he ended up in Mr. Siestia’s office. Nonetheless, the difference in temperature between the outside halls and the office always shocked him. He shivered and thought about putting his cat sweater on.

Remus draped himself over one of the chairs, his right leg balanced over the arm of the chair and his left arm stationed on the backrest. He leaned his head back so he stared at Mr. Siesta (who was trying to finish filing paperwork while talking rather loudly on his phone) through the bottom of his eyes.

Patton sat on the chair and pressed his knees together. He put his hands on his kneecaps to keep them from bouncing. His throat ran dry, and sweat formed on his brow. His body started to shiver, but he did his best to cover up his chattering teeth.

Mr. Siesta caught sight of the two boys out of the corner of his eye and mumbled that he had to go. He turned off his phone and cleared his throat.

“Remus Foley and Patton Shea. It’s only, like, the first day of school and you’re already in my office.” He clicked his tongue, “What’s your damage?”

Patton opened his mouth to speak, but Remus interrupted, “Patton attacked me in the cafeteria.”

Mr. Siesta peeked over the top of his sunglasses and sat down in his chair. He addressed Remus, “Oh? What did you do this time?”

“He shoved Logan into a garbage can and dumped food on his head,” Patton replied. 

“Is Logan alright?” Mr. Siesta asked. Patton nodded his head, and Mr. Siesta folded his fingers. “Well, like, I don’t know what to tell you, gentlemen. You know fighting is an automatic weekly suspension.”

Patton made a distressed noise in his throat, and Remus’s cool demeanor melted into a cold glare.

“You can’t do that. The first game of the season is coming up,” Remus responded. “I didn’t even hit him! He’s the one who hit me!”

“Chill,” Mr. Siesta snapped. Remus scowled. Mr. Siesta cleared his throat and took a deep breath in and out. “So, this is how you two want to spend your senior year? Really? We’re gonna do the same thing you always do every year, because I got news for you, if this keeps going, we’re going to have to expel you at this rate.”

“No-” Patton cried out.

“I’d like to see you try,” Remus growled.

Mr. Siesta pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his fingers over his eyes. “Look, boys, I really don’t want to, but you gotta clean up your act. You’re wasting your life acting like this.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d do something about the bullying,” Patton growled under his breath, and Remus narrowed his eyes at him.

Mr. Siesta sighed and pulled out some files from his drawer. He grabbed his office phone and started to dial a phone number. “Alright, you both know how this goes. I gotta call both your parents, yadda yadda, then you go home-”

The door to the office burst open, stopping Mr. Siesta in his tracks. He caught sight of the four boys all struggling to get through the door first.

“Mr. Siesta please,” Roman cried.

“Please reconsider the consequences,” Logan begged.

“It’s only the first day of school,” Virgil informed.

“And with the big game coming up this weekend, we’re going to need Remus in order to win,” Damian added.

Mr. Siesta sighed and hung up the phone. “Hello, boys. I was wondering when you’d all show up.”

Patton sent a thankful glance over his shoulder as Roman and Logan flanked his left and right side respectfully. The warmth from their hands on his shoulder stopped the shaking.

Virgil stood at Remus’s side but didn’t touch him, and Damian stood in front of Remus to lean his palms on Mr. Siesta’s desk, making the stationary teacher glare up at him.

“You know how important the first game is,” Damian purred. He played with a pen on Mr. Siesta desk. “Without winning the first game, people will lose hope in the teams’ ability, and then no one will want to come out and support us. And you know how much the school relies on the profits from football games to buy necessary supplies and whatnot. I’d hate to see my fellow classmates suffer because we didn’t win.”

“Don’t turn this around on me,” Mr. Siesta grumbled.

“Oh, I’d never insist it was your fault,” Damian said and put a hand on his chest. “However, everyone in the school would know it was you who punished Remus, and by default, that might make your job harder. I wouldn't want you working harder than you already do.”

The Vice Principal folded his fingers, “Mr. Gray-”

“Is waiting for my call after I told him what happened. He said that he’s going to personally speak to Remus himself and offer some counseling to see if he can get this bad habit of his sorted out. What do you say? Wouldn't that be better than just punishing him? It might actually solve the problem.”

Mr. Siesta sighed, and Damian smirked.

“Alright, Damian. You win this time.” He pointed a finger signaling for them all to leave his office, “but you better keep that friend of yours in line before he ends up doing something stupider than normal.”

“Will do,” Damian said and turned on his heel. Remus eyed Mr. Siesta over before he exited the office with Virgil and Damian at his side. As soon as the door closed, Patton turned his attention to the Vice Principal.

“Mr. Siesta-”

“Go, Mr. Shea. I don’t want to see you in my office again for the rest of the month. At least try to go a month without fighting someone. You’re a good kid, and like, I feel like a villain punishing you all the time. Please?”

Patton opened his mouth to argue, but he closed it soon after. Roman and Logan both put a hand on his back as they guided him out of the office. Cassie, who was pacing outside, pulled Patton into a hug and buried her head into his shoulder.

“Oh, Patton, I was so worried! Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. I’m not in trouble or anything,” Patton mumbled.

Cassie pulled herself away from Patton and squeezed his cheeks. “You can’t let him get to you like that. You have to be the bigger person.”

“Well no one else is doing anything,” Patton snapped back. “I can’t just let Remus keep getting away with this.”

“It’s the last year of school, Patton. I’ll be fine,” Logan offered. “It’s only 179 more days of my life. I’ve survived worse.”

“But you shouldn’t have to,” Patton mumbled.

Roman interjected, “And I agree, but you know we cannot beat my brother and his flunkies at this game. They’re too good.”

“I know.” Patton sighed.

“Let’s move onto our next class,” Logan offered. “We’ll meet up after school and talk more about the situation.”

Reluctantly, Patton nodded. He walked off to his next class with Cassie as Roman and Logan traveled down the science hall. Roman, unfortunately, didn’t have honors Biology with Logan, but at least they could walk together. Logan left Roman off at his classroom and walked the rest of the hallway down to his own class.

He opened the door, and the teacher smiled as he closed it behind him.

“Nice for you to finally join us, Logan,” he said.

Logan sent him a half perked smile and took a seat at the front table. He set his backpack down when a chair scooted closer to him. Logan held his breath. He knew that smell anywhere.

“So, I guess you and I are in the same class, huh Logey bear?”

Logan sat up straight, and Remus put an arm around his neck. He pulled in Logan close and ruffled his hair. “Oh, I can tell already, we’re going to have a lot of fun!”

Logan let his eyes slip closed and cursed every deity he could think up. He wanted to alert Mr. Sanders and let him know what was going on, but he was so buried in his lecture that he’d have to discuss the seating arrangements after class.

“If by fun you mean no fun at all, then yes,” Logan mumbled.

“Relax,” Remus said and patted Logan on the back. “You’re safe here. I’d be stupid to bother you in the presence of your daddy dearest. Who decided to put you into this class anyway? Isn’t it bad enough you have to put up with him every day of your life, and now you have to have him look over your shoulder as you do his homework?”

Logan pushed Remus’s hand off his back and scooted his chair over a little. Thankfully, Remus didn’t follow suit. He studied the syllabus that Mr. Sanders gave out and tried to ignore the purple shaded eyes watching his every move like a cobra playing with its food.

If he was stuck next to Remus for the whole school year, it was going to be a hell of a year.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes home life is hard. There’s a lot of things people don’t see when you’re not at school torturing them. Maybe it’s not an excuse, but it definitely is a reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: arguing, yelling, toxic relationships, toxic parents, food mentions, eating, bullying, teasing  
Word Count: 2758

As usual, Roman woke up five minutes before the alarm went off. He stretched and removed the mask from his eyes. After swinging his feet out of bed, Roman hurried to put on his jogging shirt and shorts, tied his shoes, and ran out of the house.

The brisk end to the summer air woke Roman better than any alarm. He took a deep breath. Birds chirped above him, and the dew sparkled in the grass as the sun peeked over the trees. A few other early morning joggers waved to him as he passed, and he greeted them with a quick “hello” as he traveled down the sidewalk. For a moment, a dog ran with him along its fence. It stopped at the end of the street, as it always did, and allowed Roman to finish his peaceful morning jog.

As Roman entered the front door, he heard his mother yelling on the phone. Roman sighed and hoped the neighbors didn't complain again. 

"I'm home!" Roman sang as he walked in the door. He headed toward the kitchen and saw his mother pacing as she spoke- screamed- at whoever was on the other end of the line. 

"And another thing!" she yelled. She caught Roman enter through the corner of her eye and pulled the phone away from her ear. "Oh, hello dear. Breakfast is whatever."

Roman sighed through his nose and nodded his head. He pushed aside the stack of dirty dishes in front of the cupboard and prayed there was a clean bowl for him to use. Thankfully there was one left. Unfortunately, there were no spoons in the drawer. Roman sighed and washed one off in the sink. 

Heavy footsteps on the stairs turned into shuffling feet on the carpet. Remus appeared with hair more wild than normal and bags under his eyes. 

Remus smiled and greeted, "Morning mummy."

She responded by passing him and continuing to shout on the phone in the living room. Remus sighed, shrugged, and joined Roman in the kitchen. 

"Morning," Roman mumbled as Remus came in. He earned a grunt in reply. "Hey, it's whatever again for breakfast."

"Oh joy, my favorite," Remus responded in a flat voice. He grabbed two slices of toast, checked for mold, then popped them into the toaster. He took a seat across from Roman, crossed his arms, and let out a long sigh.

"I DON'T CARE-" their mother's voice made them both jump, "Look, there has to be some way to cut expenses without pulling stock-" 

"Has she been at it all morning?" Roman asked. 

Remus sighed, "Since six o'clock on the dot, as per usual."

Roman sighed and poured milk in his cereal. At least it didn’t have chunks in it. He heard his mother’s exasperated sigh, and she walked into the kitchen.

“Morning mummy,” Remus greeted again.

Their mother put her phone down on the table and addressed Roman, “When you’re done with school, would you stop by the store and pick up some fresh eggs? I’m going to make some brownies later tonight.”

Roman didn’t miss the way Remus slouched in his seat and responded, “You know, Remus-”

“Thank you, pixie bug.” His mother set money on the table. “Here, pick yourself up a treat or something. I’m going into work early. You’re on your own for supper again.”

Their mother picked her phone, pocketed it, and left the room. For a while, the two brothers sat in silence and listened to her heels fade into the distance. The toast popped up, and Remus stood.

“Remus-”

“It’s fine,” Remus mumbled. He took the raisin toast, buttered it, and walked out of the kitchen. “I’m heading to school.”

“It doesn’t start for another hour.”

“Don’t care.”

“Remus, wait-” The front door slammed shut, and Roman sat in silence for a moment. He heard his brother’s car engine roar to life. Tires squealed as Remus sped down the street.

Roman picked up his half eaten cereal bowl and dumped it in the trash. He rinsed off the bowl and set it in the strainer to dry. He’d eat something at lunch when he had an appetite again.

\--

Virgil groaned as his alarm rang for the 6th time this morning. He hit it a little harder than it probably deserved, but he really didn’t care. He rolled over, contemplated going back to sleep, and eventually decided to close his eyes and wait for the 7th alarm.

Heavy paws pressing on his chest made Virgil groan. A long meow sounded as paws kneaded into his back. He rolled over. The meow turned into a startled mew. For a moment, Virgil thought he won. That was until the paws came back and started kneading him again. 

“Sua,” Virgil groaned. He stroked the cat’s head and peeked over the blanket. Soft purring followed a heavy weight laying on his chest. He glared at the clock, which told him he had a half hour until school started, and did his best to prop himself up in his bed.

“Virgil! Are you awake? You’re going to miss breakfast,” his mother called from downstairs.

“Alright, I’m up,” Virgil growled back. He lifted Sua into his arms and shuffled his feet into the kitchen.

His mother already had her business suit on, her hair pulled into a neat ponytail. She flipped eggs in her pan and set them on a plate beside her. The smell of bacon and toast floated in the air as well. She turned her head and scowled.

“You’re going to miss the bus,” she scolded.

“Well maybe if you didn’t make so much food,” Virgil mumbled.

“I will not tolerate that attitude in my kitchen,” she replied. She carried the plate of food and orange juice to the table. “Sit and eat. Put the cat down.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and did as he was told. He sat down at the table and started nibbling on some toast.

“Sen, have you seen my briefcase?” Virgil’s father asked as he walked in the room. He slid one arm into his coat sleeve and adjusted it. His eyes locked with Virgil, and Virgil looked away.

“I believe it’s on the couch where you left it, you know, where I told you not to leave it a million times,” his mother’s voice came out cold.

“Let me turn your knitting room into an office and I won’t,” he shot back.

His mother slammed her spoon down into the sink, making Virgil jump. He chewed on his lip and tried not to pay attention.

“Don’t turn it back around on me! I offered to turn the garage into your office.”

“Yeah, so you can lock me out of the house again? I don’t think so.”

“Don’t come home drunk again and I won’t. I have children to protect.”

“Oh, yes, because it’s always about the children.”

“Of course! Why do you think I’m still with you!”

Virgil picked up his plate and hurried out of the kitchen, his parents too buried in their argument to care. He shut his bedroom door with his foot. As he turned on the light with his shoulder, he noticed a quivering lump in his bed. Virgil set the food down on his dresser. He tiptoed over to the bed and pulled back the covers.

“Riley,” he whispered. “Riley, it’s okay now. I shut the door.”

Teary eyes turned up to him, and Virgil scooped his sister into his arms. She buried her head into his shoulder, and Virgil stroked the back of her head. A few wet sniffles followed suit, but she wiped her tears off on Virgil’s shirt and pretended to be strong.

“I hate it when they fight,” Riley mumbled.

“I know,” Virgil whispered as he looked at the door. His parent’s faint voices echoed down the halls. “How about I brush your hair and get you ready for school, huh?”

Riley nodded her head. She hopped off the bed and grabbed the spare hairbrush that Virgil kept in his room for her. Virgil did his best to navigate through her hair without pulling too hard. Every time he hit a tangle, he’d hold her hair so Riley wouldn’t feel too much pain.

“Did you meet any new friends at school yesterday?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Riley mumbled.

Virgil sighed and nodded his head. They continued in silence for a few more minutes. Virgil pulled Riley’s hair into pigtails and made sure each side was even. He sat back and marveled at his work.

“There, all done,” he told her.

Riley sat still for a moment. She let out a long breath and listened. Virgil listened as well. The screaming thankfully stopped. He heard a knock on his door.

“What?” Virgil yelled through.

“Tell Riley breakfast is ready,” their dad’s low voice called through. His footsteps disappeared down the hall.

“I’m not hungry,” Riley mumbled. Virgil stood up and walked to his plate of food. He pulled off a slice of toast and held it out to her.

“Eat,” he ordered in a gentle tone. Riley glared at him. Virgil sighed and put it in her hands. “Please?”

After a long sigh, Riley took a bite of the toast. Her hunger soon got the better of her, and she scarfed it down. Virgil offered her the rest of his food and told her she could finish breakfast in his room. He then grabbed a shirt, his jacket, and a pair of jeans then walked over to the bathroom to change. From the hall, he could hear his mother’s frustrated tears. Virgil did his best to ignore it and closed the bathroom door.

After Virgil got ready, he helped Riley dress for her day and walked her to the bus. The pair of siblings were the only ones at the bus stop, and for a minute, Virgil feared they missed it. However, the elementary bus soon pulled up.

Virgil adjusted Riley’s jacket and straightened out her shirt. He said, “Alright, you be on your best behavior.”

Riley nodded her head. She wrapped her arms around Virgil’s neck, and Virgil squeezed her around the middle. The doors to the bus opened, and Riley stepped on board. Virgil waved as she looked out the window. He waited until the bus disappeared down the street. Once it was out of sight, he put his headphones over his ears, turned the music on full blast, and headed toward the high school.

\--

“You’re late,” Remus said as Virgil climbed the stairs to the school.

“Yeah, so? I had to get Riley on the bus again this morning,” Virgil snapped.

Remus sighed and gripped the stone railing until his fingers turned white. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.” Virgil pulled his headphones off his ears and stared up at the school clock. Damian wouldn’t be arriving for another ten minutes.

Remus let out a bitter laugh, and he went to his usual sitting position on his toes. He balanced himself, wondering what would happen if he fell off the edge. Would anyone care? Would he die? Would they take him to the hospital if he was still alive? Maybe he’d finally feel something.

“-he comes,” Virgil’s voice spoke.

Remus turned his head, and Damian parked his motorbike. He put on his signature Cheshire cat grin and waited for Damian to make his way to the stairs.

“Good morning, King of Darkness,” Remus greeted, as he did every morning.

“Good morning, Duke,” Damian turned his attention to Virgil. “Good morning, Prince.”

Virgil sneered in response.

Damian sighed and looked over his shoulder. Most of the school had shown up by now. Some stragglers still made their way toward the school as they chatted to their friends. Damian put his hands on his hips and cleared his throat.

“Well, you know who I don’t see?” Damian asked.

Remus tilted his head to the side. “My brother?”

“No, I see him next to Logan,” Damian responded. Remus’s attention perked up at that. He continued, “I don’t see the boy scout.”

Virgil asked, “You think he dropped out because he had to tarnish his goody two shoes reputation by working with you?”

Damian shrugged. “He worked with you, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, for like a day, but this is half the year. That’s a long time to dabble with darkness.”

As Damian treasured his victory, an old car that looked like it belonged in the 80s rolled into the parking lot. The back doors opened, and Damian scowled as both Patton and Cassie stepped outside, followed by the guidance counselor, Mr. Shea.

“Oh, there he is,” Damian mumbled.

Remus started to laugh, and Damian elbowed him in the gut. He didn’t stop. 

“Go! Go talk to your new boy toy,” Remus said through his laughter. “After all, you two do need to agree on an assignment to do. You could like, do the psychology of the boy scouts, or why dads from the 50s were complete misogynists.”

“Go eat a dick, Remus,” Damian grumbled.

“Pretty sure you’re not on the menu,” Remus responded. Damian snapped his head over to him, and Remus sent a coy grin back. He flipped Remus off, which caused Remus to laugh harder, and walked past his two friends into the school. Remus and Virgil followed, and the three of them set off towards homeroom.

\--

A wet spitball hit the back of Roman’s neck. He shrieked and swatted at it. Their homeroom teacher looked up, and Roman snapped his head back in Virgil’s direction.

Virgil leaned back in his desk, hiding the straw from the teacher’s view. He waited until she looked down to fire another one.

“Will you stop!” Roman snapped.

The teacher’s eyes flashed over toward him again, and Roman opened his mouth to defend himself, but the bell rang and interrupted him. He angrily gathered his things to move to his first period class. As he made his way to the door, an arm shoved sharply into his, knocking him into Cassie.

“Scuse me,” Virgil mumbled. That annoying indifferent look on his face that said he really didn’t mean it burned a hole into Roman’s stomach.

Cassie balanced Roman and pulled a stray spitball out of his hair. She asked, “Are you okay?”

“No,” Roman growled. He sighed and adjusted the books in his arms, “but I’ll live. Are you okay? I’m the one who bumped into you.”

“I’m fine,” she replied. She watched Virgil leave the classroom. “What did you even do that has him so mad at you?”

“I exist, I guess,” Roman replied. He sighed and followed Cassie out of the room. 

Homeroom only lasted ten minutes a day. He could put up with ten minutes of torture. It wasn’t like Logan or Patton, who had to spend their whole class period with Remus and Damian, or Cassie, who had to deal with Mara through the whole cheer practice. He could put on a brave face. He could get through this.

Roman’s first period just so happened to be gym, his second best class (the first being lunch). Because of the rotation, he had Gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays, while Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were study halls. He couldn't be more thankful to have a study hall early in the morning. He thought best in the morning hours, and it gave him a chance to catch up on any homework he didn’t get to the night before.

As Roman entered the changing room, he caught Virgil’s eyes as Virgil slid his shirt off. Roman swallowed hard. A wolf whistle caught his attention, and Roman turned.

“What’s wrong, Foley? Like what you see?” one of the boys teased. Roman’s cheeks tinged pink. They went on to tease him about having a crush on Virgil, which he did his best to ignore. Roman walked into one of the bathroom stalls and put his head in his hands.

“I think someone has a crush on you, NguyenO.”

“Looks like we have a masochist in our class.”

“Shove it,” Virgil growled. He slammed his locker door hard, and the boys started laughing. “Like I’d ever fall for that arrogant brat.”

The laughter died down as they exited the locker room. Roman sighed and slid down the stall wall. He could’ve cried. Here he was thinking he was in the safe zone, and Virgil shared the only class that Roman clung to in this miserable place.

If he was going to deal with Virgil’s teasing for more than homeroom, it was going to be a hell of a year.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the five stages of grief are over, Patton and Damian talk about what their project for psychology should be. It leaves Damian with more questions than answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mild swearing, food mentions, that should be it  
Word Count: 2620

“I’m going to give you all this chance to work with your partner for the entire period,” Mr. Picani said as he leaned against his desk. He twirled a marker between his fingers. “After all, I know some of you have after school activities and can’t find the time, so might as well make the most of it, right?”

Damian resisted the urge to bang his head off of the table. He side glanced at Patton, who did his best to look unphased, but Damian spied the slight downward curve in his fake smile. He rolled his eyes. Funny how he chided Damian for lying when he lied just as much himself. Hypocritical annoying little-

“If you have any questions, feel free to come and speak to me,” Mr. Picani said. Damian raised his hand. Mr. Picani furrowed his brows and perked a smile. “Yes, Mr. Gray?”

“Are you sure I can’t do this project alone?” he asked. A few snickers from his fellow football team members followed, and Damian sent them a glare.

“I’m sure you could, but I’m sure Mr. Shea wouldn’t do that to you,” Mr. Picani responded. He turned his attention to Patton, who let out a nervous chuckle. Damian rose a brow and glanced over at Patton. Had Patton thought about doing that?

Patton lowered his head shortly after and stared at the circle he drew on his paper over and over stuck on a loop. It was far from a perfect circle, but Patton perfectly traced the line every time. If Damian hadn’t seen Virgil’s art, he’d be impressed.

“Right, so have fun,” Mr. Picani added, “and try your best to work together, okay?”

Damian didn’t miss how Mr. Picani’s eyes lingered on his and Patton’s table for a little longer than everyone else. He sighed and flipped through the table of contents in his book.

“So,” he spoke, but his words died on his tongue. Patton wouldn’t even look at him, too focused on his own notes to say anything. He continued, “Uh, hello, earth to Shea. I really don’t want to do this on my own. It was just a joke.”

“Oh, I know,” Patton said as his head perked up. He chewed on his lip, still looking anywhere but Damian. “So, uh, what topic did you want to do? I was, um, thinking about-”

“How about if people are actually able to feel if others are watching them,” Damian asked, “because you might not be looking directly at me, but I can tell you have been the whole period.”

Patton’s head snapped over to him at that, a slight tinge of red on his cheeks. He played with his pencil between his fingertips. “Oh, um, sorry. Didn’t mean to be rude there kiddo.” He let out a nervous laugh. “It’s just-”

“Did you just call me “kiddo”?” Damian asked.

“Ah, sorry. Force of habit,” Patton said with a laugh. He cleared his throat.

“Are you… nervous?” Damian questioned with a raised brow.

“No! Of course not,” Patton responded, probably a little harsher than necessary. “I’m just not… well as much as I want to pass the class, I… well I just-”

“Look, as much as I’m sooo looking forward to working with you too, let’s make the best of this and get it over with as soon as possible.”

“Sure thing.” Patton put on that infuriatingly fake smile Damian despised. He looked through the table of contents for a topic. “Uh, how about the psychology of how color can affect mood?”

Damian shrugged. He glanced up and caught a few members of his team watching him. The hair on the back of his neck rose. One of them, in particular, made a kissing face at him, and Damian flipped him off under the table. The boy laughed before going back to his work. Damian sighed and ran a hand over his face.

If Patton didn’t make this assignment hell, his teammates sure were going to.

“Yes, because that sounds fun,” Damian said with as much fake enjoyment as he could muster.

“Or,” Patton pointed to another topic, “how about if you can judge someone’s personality by their taste in music?”

“Of course, because who doesn’t like bagpipe music?” Damian rose a brow.

“Oh! We could also do the nature versus nurture thing, you know, whether a person’s environment affects their personality or it’s just how they are.”

Damian fell quiet at that one. Patton stopped picking topics out loud, instead choosing to skim over the topics silently in his mind. His fingers skimmed the words, his lips mouthing something Damian couldn’t hear. Perhaps Patton was still speaking and Damian missed it. Perhaps he was still stuck on what Patton just said.

“Fine,” Damian responded in a sharp tone. Patton froze. “That one. Let’s do that one.”

“Which one?”

“The Nature VS Nurture thing.”

“You sure?” Patton asked, his lips dipping from their usual smile.

“Yeah,” Damian responded. 

Patton stared at him, his eyes scanning for any clue to Damian being sarcastic. He gave up and sighed with a nod of his head and said, “Okay, I guess that’s fine with me too.”

“Great, can’t wait to get started.”

Patton sighed through his nose and flipped the book open to the Nature VS Nurture section of the book. He chewed on the tip of his lip as he looked, reminding Damian of how Virgil would do that when he was nervous. Was Patton nervous? 

“There,” Patton said, at last coming to the page he needed. “Okay, so, do we want to do a powerpoint or something? Mr. Picani said there’s an oral presentation worth about 20% of the grade. It might help us power through our point.”

Damian blinked. Was that a pun? The coy smile slithering onto Patton’s face told him his theory held merit. 

“Oh, ha-ha, very clever,” Damian responded with a roll of his eyes. “You must’ve stayed up all night to think up that joke.”

“No, just thought it up on the spot.”

Damian snorted. He shook his head and sighed through his nose. “Fine.”

“So, do you want to research the nature or the nurture part? Since there are two topics, we can split them up.”

“I guess I’ll take nature. That sounds like the one where the environment makes you the way you are.”

Patton pursed his lips. He skimmed over the text, and he hummed. “Actually, ah, no, that’s not right?”

“What do you mean?”

“It says here that nature is used for when people behave just like their family,” Patton replied.

“Well, that’s stupid. You nurture a child, not nature them.”

Patton laughed at that. The noise surprised Damian. He wasn’t trying to be funny, so why did Patton laugh?

“You know, I was thinking the same thing,” Patton replied. “But I guess it means like when it’s in someone’s nature to be who they are. They weren’t taught it. It just kinda happens.”

“Like how it’s in your nature to be such a good boy,” Damian responded.

“Exactly,” Patton responded with a smile. Damian’s mirth fell away. Did Patton honestly think that was a compliment? Was Patton playing with him, or was he just this stupid? Patton continued, “I guess I’ll take nurture then.”

“Now hold on,” Damian said and held up a hand. “I said I wanted the one where the environment made you the way you are. Shouldn’t I take nurture then?”

Patton chewed on his lip. His voice came out soft as he replied, “Uh, well, I guess.”

“Then I call nurture.”

Damian didn’t miss the way Patton grew silent, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed heavily, the way he chewed on his lip again, the way he brushed a strand of hair out of his face that was nowhere near blocking his vision. Patton took a deep breath to speak, stopped, and exhaled it all at once.

“Well, okay then,” Patton responded, at last, his voice much more solemn than that usual annoyingly perky personality Damian grew to associate him with. Damian rose a brow in confusion.

“Something wrong?”

“Huh? Oh! No, I just,” Patton chewed on his lip again. “It’s fine. I’ll take nature.”

Damian sighed and replied, “No, I said I’d take nature. You can have nurture.”

Patton’s head whipped around at that. He furrowed his brow and asked, “You sure?”

“Positive. As much as I’d love to see you suffer by researching a topic that bothers you-”

“When did I say it bothered me?”

“-I’d rather pass the class.”

Patton wondered if Damian ignored him on purpose or if he didn’t hear him. Nevertheless, he let out a long relieved sigh. He nodded his head and dogeared the book to mark the chapter.

“Okay, I’ll take nurture.”

“Great. And as much as I loved talking to you, we should probably get to work researching as fast as possible.”

“Oh, okay.” Patton watched Damian bury himself into the chapter, jotting down notes on a notebook. He pretended Patton didn’t exist for the rest of the class. Patton kept playing Damian’s words over and over in his head.

How did Damian know that the thought of researching nature bothered him? And more importantly, why did he care? Patton would’ve asked, but the bell ending the class rang, and Damian got up before Patton could ask him any more questions. He sighed through his nose and stood to leave.

“Patton,” Mr. Picani spoke, “can I have a word with you?”

Patton put on a smile and walked to the front of the room. “Of course! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you and Damian were getting along. I was rather worried about the two of you working together.”

“Oh! No, nothing’s wrong. He’s been a great partner so far.”

Mr. Picani eyed him over. He tapped his pen against the paper on his desk and replied, “Well, that’s good! I was hoping you two would get along, or at least tolerate each other. They say opposites attract, after all.”

“Huh?” Patton blinked.

“I don’t mean like in a romantic sense,” Mr. Picani clarified. “I mean people of opposite personalities tend to bring out the best in each other.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, I don’t want to make you late,” Mr. Picani said. He shooed Patton away with a kind good-bye, and Patton exited into the hall. What did he mean by that? How would a first year teacher know that Patton and Damian hated each other? (Well, hated was a strong word. Patton just really, really didn’t like him.)

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Mr. Picani planned this.

\--

“Hey, what do either of you three know about Patton Shea?” Damian asked.

Virgil, Remus, and Mara blinked at him, all with various expressions. Remus’s expression bordered between amused and teasing, an eyebrow raised and lip tilted to the right into a grin. Mara’s eyes widened, her mouth hanging agape in shock. Virgil, on the other hand, looked unamused, as if Damian just asked him why he chose black eyeshadow every morning instead of purple.

Damian folded his fingers on the table. “Look, if I’m going to be working with him, I’d like to at least know something about him.”

“He doesn’t do anything wrong,” Mara responded. “Everything’s in the name of justice like he’s Steve Rogers or something.”

“I knew that already,” Damian grumbled.

“I guess he’s a good student,” Virgil added. “I mean, when we did our project together, he worked really hard- well unless there was like a dog or something in the park but who wouldn’t lose it over seeing a dog.”

“I knew that already,” Damian growled.

“I heard he volunteers cleaning up the local park,” Remus started. He opened his mouth to speak again.

“I knew that already,” Damian yelled and threw his hands up in the air. He lowered his voice as several people turned to stare at him. He harshly whispered, “I mean, what do you know about his family.”

“You mean the Shea family? Like as in Mr. Shea, the school guidance counselor?” Mara asked.

“Yes,” Damian said as he scrubbed his hands over his face and covered his eyes. “Who else would I mean?”

Remus responded, “Well, I mean, he is adopted.”

Damian peeked between his fingers. “Mr. Shea?”

“No, Patton,” Remus corrected. “He didn’t go here until our third grade year, remember?”

Damian fell silent at that. Suddenly Patton’s anxiety toward researching how your family made you who you are made sense. Did Patton know his birth parents? Was he thrown into the orphanage at a young age? What was his story?

Why was Damian even concerned about it?

“Oh yeah,” he mumbled to cover up the fact that his brain stuck to the thought of Patton’s history.

Virgil rose a brow. “Why the interest in his family all of a sudden? It’s not like you can get higher up on the social totem pole because of it.”

“I know, but I mean… he picked out Nature VS Nurture for our psychology project for some reason. Why would he do that if he doesn’t know where he came from?”

“I never said he didn’t,” Remus pointed out.

Damian sighed and watched Mara pick up her half eaten salad. He rose a brow, and she caught his eye. 

“What?” she snapped.

“You’re not going to finish that?”

“No, I’m not hungry anymore.”

Damian stared into her eyes, his brows lowering from his judging half raise to a concerned soft kiss to his eyes. Mara rolled her own eyes and walked up to the garbage can.

“Besides,” Remus continued, “maybe if you do this project you’ll find out just what makes Pat the Cat run. I mean, there has to be a reason social injustice pisses him off so much, right?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Patton walk beside Logan instead of ahead of him to return their trays. Remus must’ve noticed too because his head followed the two of them as they walked up to the garbage can together. Damian wondered if Remus planned on attacking Logan again as he did yesterday, but if he did, Patton dashed his plans. Obviously the threat of missing the first football game worked. Remus would be on his “best” behavior until the end of the season, then go back to being his chaotic self once there were no consequences, as per usual.

“I guess,” Damian mumbled. He grabbed his own tray and traveled up to the trashcan himself. Patton didn’t pay attention to him as he walked past this time. He was too busy talking about something to Logan, who had that patronizingly sympathetic look on his face. Damian rolled his eyes. 

Why did people try to pad the truth with false hope? The world was shit. There’s no use sugar coating it. You either lie and cheat to get where you need to be or you fall into a position where no amount of kindness could get you out. Being nice only got you so far. Sometimes you have to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep going. And if the world hated you for it, so be it.

Damian returned to his seat and sat rather heavily in it. He couldn’t help watching Patton at his own seat, and he didn’t know why. A few hours ago, he couldn’t care less if Patton kept him as a partner or not. Now? Now he wanted to know everything about him, and it pissed him off.

If he went through the whole class not knowing why Patton picked that topic, it was going to be a hell of a year.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan hoped Remus being late to Biology means he dropped the subject, but he’s disappointed as he shows up late. Afterward, Roman makes an important discovery at Remus’s football practice, and he’s not too sure he likes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: fake real heart stabbing because Remus... that’s pretty much it  
Word Count: 2877

Logan took his seat in Honors Biology and sighed. The seat next to him held no Remus, but Logan knew he was somewhere within the school. At some point, Remus would enter the door, that sickening smirk on his face, and disrupt Logan’s studies. Logan caught his father’s eye at his desk, but Mr. Sanders merely smiled and went back to his work.

Logan wanted to go to his father and talk to him about his situation with Remus, but he knew his dad was already under a lot of pressure preparing for the school year. Already there were kids wanting to be transferred in or transferred out, and Mr. Sanders had to organize the syllabus that he failed to complete by the beginning of the school year, gather necessary materials for the first lesson, and other things he was less than great at completing on time for the beginning of the year. Logan couldn’t add his stress on top of all that. He could put up with Remus for a few minutes of the day.

Besides, it wasn’t like his dad would partner Remus and him together for a project and expect the union to work, like Damian and Patton.

The bell rang and signaled the beginning of the class, and Logan noticed the absence of Remus hadn’t changed. Did Remus get sick and go to the nurse? Was he cutting class? Would he pop in late and apologize for his tardiness?

Come to think of it, Logan couldn’t remember having a class with Remus before. Logan usually stuck to honors classes, and it didn’t seem like Remus was the academically inclined student Logan was. Even if the school was large, it was rather odd that he didn’t share one honors class with Remus before.

Perhaps Remus switched out of the class when he realized this was not an average intelligence based environment.

After five minutes past the bell’s ringing, Logan gave up looking for Remus. The latter must’ve switched out of the class. Perhaps then it was good he didn’t bother his father with his minuscule problem.

As Mr. Sanders stared to address the class, the door opened, and Remus peeked his head in. All attention turned to him for a moment. Logan’s heart sank.

“Sorry I’m late,” Remus said in that sickeningly sweet voice Logan knew was fake. Not quite Damian’s fake, but a cheap imitation.

“It’s alright, Remus. Why don’t you have a seat,” Mr. Sanders said with a smile.

Remus closed the door behind him with a considerate cushioned click. He then walked over next to Logan and grinned.

“Afternoon, Logey Posey,” Remus chirped.

Logan resisted the urge to bang his head off of his desk.

Mr. Sanders began his lesson, and Logan did his best to pay attention. His eyes kept catching Remus’s bouncing leg under the table, the cloth of his pants shushing and hissing against the chair. The table also shook along with him. Logan groaned under his breath and folded his hands together.

“I can put up with you making my life a living nightmare, but if you purposely make me fail this class with your incessant vibrating, I will not forgive you,” Logan whispered.

Remus looked over at him with wide, innocent eyes. “What? You forgive me for all the teasing?”

“Not in the slightest,” Logan shot back.

“But that’s what you said. You forgave me.”

“Do not take my words out of context. I’m talking about the shaking of your leg.”

“It’s shaking?”

Now Logan knew he was being played the fool. He turned away from Remus and decided to drop the subject. To his surprise, Remus’s leg stopped shaking. For a moment, Logan wondered if his plea worked. It would’ve been the first time in three years Remus stopped tormenting him when Logan asked. 

However, five minutes later, the intolerable vibrating started up again. Logan sighed and did his best to ignore it.

While Logan focused on his father’s words, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Remus didn’t. Remus, instead, decided to draw hearts on his notebook paper, but not the cute hearts that people sent on Valentine's day cards. No, his were full anatomical hearts, veins and arteries showing, and some even oozing blood. The detail looked like it could be used in the medical field. For a moment, Logan was impressed.

Until Remus took delight in stabbing it over and over with his pen.

What was wrong with him?

“Alright, that’s all I have for you today. Make sure you read over chapter one, answer the questions in the back of the chapter, then turn your answers in for homework,” Mr. Sanders finished. Only then did Remus looked up from his work, his wide eyes and deep frown staring straight ahead.

“What did he just say?” Remus asked.

“We have homework,” Logan replied.

“I heard that, but of what?”

“The end chapter questions.”

“But how many?”

“I suppose all of them.”

Remus pulled out his textbook and flipped to the last page in the chapter. He stared at all thirteen questions, complete with “part a” and “part b” additions, and frowned.

“All of them?”

“Yes, all of them. Why wouldn’t it be all of them?” Logan watched Remus read and reread the questions. Sometimes he’d stop halfway through the question and start over. The more Remus stared at it, the more panicked he became. Logan rose a brow. “Are you alright?”

“No, I’m half left,” Remus responded without looking up.

Logan groaned. It sounded like a response Patton would come up with. Remus looked over at Logan, his eyes holding an emotion that Logan couldn’t quite place, and sighed.

“Do I have to do all of them?”

“Yes,” Logan grumbled, starting to feel rather annoyed. Why did Remus keep asking the same question over and over? Was he that thick or was he trying to get out of work? If he suggested Logan complete his homework for him, Logan was definitely going to his father with his concerns, busy or not.

However, Remus simply slouched in his seat and closed his book. He admired the book’s cover for a moment. Then, he put it back in his bag and began doodling on his notebook once again.

Logan sighed. “If you’re concerned you won’t have enough time to complete the task, Mr. Sanders has been gracious enough to include ten minutes of class time for us to get a head start.”

“Not really in the mood,” Remus grumbled back.

Logan’s gut boiled. It wasn’t his problem if Remus failed, so why did he care so much? Perhaps it was because Remus was squandering his father’s goodwill. Not many teachers allowed their classes time to start their homework early in the Honors system, so it was a blessing that his father cut ten minutes from his lecture to give students some free time and sacrifice teaching a lesson to the bitter end of class. Of course, if this was truly Remus’s only Honors class, perhaps he did not know that. Perhaps Remus’s other classes were more lenient on giving extra time for completion.

“If you insist,” Logan eventually said. He pulled out his own notebook and started answering the questions. Because they were basically a recap of the previous lessons he learned, he answered the question with ease. In fact, he completed half of them by the time the final bell rang. 

Logan packed his things into his bag and hurried toward the door. He missed the student at the end of the table pushing their chair out. His foot, however, didn’t. He tripped over the leg of the chair, a startled cry caught in his throat. He braced himself for impact.

An arm wrapped around his middle and steadied him. Logan blinked at the floor. The strong arm pulled him up into a standing position, and Logan straightened out his shirt.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Be more careful, Lolo.”

Logan’s eyes widened. He watched Remus walk past him as if he didn’t just save Logan a bruise on the head. For a moment, all he could do was stare as Remus exited the classroom.

“Logan, are you alright?” his father asked. Logan pulled his eyes away long enough to catch Mr. Sander’s worried look at the front of the class. 

“I’m-” Logan paused- “I’m alright.”

“Good. Watch out for any more chairs. I heard they like to attack when you least expect it,” Mr. Sanders said with a smile.

Logan dumbly nodded his head. He exited the class and replayed the events in his mind.

Remus grabbed Logan without hesitation. Remus stopped Logan from getting hurt. Logan knew he wasn’t heavy, but he wasn’t exactly light either. The risk of injury was prominent, and Remus still reached out to help. But… why? Why do so after years of torment? Was it because his father was watching? Logan thought for sure Remus would bask in his clumsiness, but he didn’t.

Logan shook his head. Perhaps Remus simply reacted. Perhaps it was a subconscious reflex. Perhaps Logan was putting too much thought into a simple action.

Logan caught Roman walking at the end of the hallway. He hurried to catch up with him and joined his side. Roman looked over at Logan with a wide smile.

“So how was class with my brother?” Roman asked.

“It was… interesting,” Logan responded. He relayed the events that happened toward the end. 

Roman’s eyebrows knitted together. He said, “Well I mean, my brother isn’t heartless.”

“But it was me he rescued, the same person who he has made an object of his torture for the past three years.”

Roman shrugged. He kept his eyes straight ahead to watch where he was going, his mind lost in thought. Logan dropped the subject for now. He may never get his answer, after all. Remus could be as unpredictable as the lottery.

Perhaps Logan just got lucky.

\--

Roman waited outside of the track for Remus to finish his football practice. He folded his fingers and rested his chin on them as he sat in the bleachers, the chilling end summer air ruffling his hair. 

Football never excited him. He could care less about watching men throw a ball back and forth like dogs in the park. He didn’t understand how physical exertion could make people go absolutely nuts and defend a group of people who could care less about them like they were some long lost relative, then the moment the team went on a losing streak, they changed their tune and did it for a team that was "better". 

But, Roman did know how much football meant to Remus. His brother had been into football since he was young. It gave him an outlet. It gave him a purpose. It made him feel important.

Roman couldn’t stand football, but he’d give his brother his support until his dying breath.

Remus pushed through the line and waved his arms. Damian found him easily as if they were telepathically linked and threw. Remus jumped up to catch it. He sprinted down the field, and none of the other team members could catch him. He easily made it to the goal post before anyone could touch him.

And that’s when the team dogpiled him.

Roman chuckled under his breath. He shook his head and pulled out a sketch pad in his bag. Roman flipped through several pages of cartoons. He liked creating overexaggerated expressions like the character was an extension of himself. He liked how he didn’t have to follow the rules of reality and allow characters to bounce around the page like balls. He liked the freedom of forgetting anatomy over showing emotion.

“That’s some running back you got there,” a man said as he stood beside Roman. Roman snapped his head up and wondered if the man talked to him. The stranger kept his eyes forward and spoke again, “You have any idea what his name is? Number 24?”

“That’s Remus Foley,” Roman informed.

“And is he a Junior or Senior?”

“Senior.”

“Good.” The stranger descended the bleachers, and Roman watched with curiosity. What was that about? Was it a parent that thought Remus was competition and wanted him out of the game? Was it a fan that was impressed by Remus’s work. Either way, Roman wouldn’t be getting his answer.

Virgil passed the stranger on the bleachers, a sneer evident as he pushed past him. He caught Roman’s eye for a moment and took a seat a few bleachers down. Roman scowled and leaned back in his seat.

What was he doing here?

The coach blew his whistle and rounded the team up. Remus emerged from the pile unscathed, and Damian walked over to give him their friendship handshake or whatever it was they did when they clasped their right hands and rammed their right shoulders together, usually followed by two pats on the back.

Roman turned his attention then to the cheerleaders practicing on the field. Cassie stood almost a head above the other girls, and uncoincidentally, was the only minority who made the squad. Roman rolled his eyes. He knew exactly why Cassie was picked, and so did Cassie, but he wanted to believe in a world where her skill mattered more than her skin tone.

Mara walked over to her and said something, and Cassie nodded. The group got into their staggered “V” positions and started their new cheer.

Roman liked watching the cheerleaders move a lot more than the football players. While football was fun and all, these girls threw each other around like they weighed nothing, and they made it artistically beautiful to boot. They did just as much work as the football team for half the credit. 

The girls ended their cheer with two pyramids, and they brought their hands together to catch one another. Cassie could’ve easily caught Mara by herself, but she still stayed a team player. In fact, if Roman wasn’t really watching, he wouldn’t have noticed how close Mara chose to stay with Cassie. Every member changed partners at least twice during their routines, but Mara chose to stay especially close to Cassie.

Maybe Roman was looking too deep into it. Maybe there were cheers where Mara and Cassie weren’t partnered. Maybe that’s just how the cards fell, but for some reason, the thought itched the back of his mind. 

The strange man finally made his way down to the football field and spoke with the coach. Roman watched the coach dismiss all the other players, his brother and the coach the only ones left. He wished he could hear what they were saying. 

After a few minutes, the stranger handed Remus a card. That’s when Roman stood up in his seat. He passed Virgil, who was too busy doing whatever he was doing to really care about Roman at the moment, and met up with his brother, who stared at the card like he was handed a hundred dollars.

“What was that about?” Roman asked.

Remus looked up at him, smiled, and scooped his brother into an arm crushing hug. He spun Roman around, the younger twin crying out in surprise. 

“I can’t believe it!” Remus shouted. He eventually set Roman down and put his hands on Roman’s shoulders to help steady him. “Do you know who that was?”

“No,” Roman replied.

“That was a talent scout. I’m being drafted for college!”

“That’s great,” Roman replied, his excitement for his brother bubbling up in his chest.

“Yeah, they want to give me a full scholarship. Roman, do you know what this means?”

“You can go to college?”

“I could become a professional football player!” Remus wiped a tear from his eye. “Everything I worked so hard for, I could have it.”

“That’s fantastic, Remus. So, what college is it?”

“The University of California,” Remus replied.

Roman’s heart sank. “The… California?”

“Yeah! I’d be playing for the Golden Bears.” 

Roman swallowed hard. “But Remus, that’s on the other side of the country.” 

Remus’s smile started to fall, and he brought it back as he rubbed Roman’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, dear brother of mine. You’ll finally get your wish. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

Remus dry laughed at that. He left Roman on the field as Roman watched Remus leave. His brother, his twin brother, someone who he had never really been apart from for the majority of his life, was going across the country to play football. 

He should've been excited that Remus’s future showed up. Remus wanted to leave for years. It was inevitable. Roman knew this day was coming. 

So why did it hurt so much? 

Roman shuffled his feet across the track. He looked up toward the bleachers, but Virgil disappeared. The only ones left were the cheerleaders. Roman searched for Cassie to talk to her, but she was busy conversing with her squad. He couldn't interrupt that with his stupid problem that was probably less of a problem than he made it out to be. He had to be supportive for Remus’s sake. 

If Roman had to go the whole year knowing it was his last with his brother, it was going to be a hell of a year.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mara and Damian have their dinner date with their parents. Everything goes well... sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you didn't expect this to update today. Me either :D However, I hope you enjoy this chapter I've had sitting 3/4 done in my drafts for literal months. Thank you for your patience!
> 
> \--
> 
> Chapter warnings: controlling parents, racist comments, a literal Karen, fatphobia, mentions of Christianity  
Word count: 2,571

As much as Damian didn’t want Thursday night to come, it had, as it always did.

He sat in total silence beside his father in the back of their car, his fingers squeezed together in his lap. He wished he could distract himself with his phone, but they all knew how that would end. He was sick enough already.

Every once and a while, Damian would glance at his father out of the corner of his eye. His father, who was quite capable of using electronics during their car rides, talked to several people at once through messengers, set up meetings with businessmen, and every other thing that his father busied himself with instead of his own flesh and blood sitting beside him.

The car turned, and Damian swallowed hard. Mara’s house pulled up into view. It shouldn’t have felt like a prison sentence, but Damian’s heart still sank at the thought of going in.

This was going to be a long two hours.

His father shut the lid of his laptop and cleared his throat. Damian clenched his teeth.

“I expect you to be on your best behavior,” his father spoke in a cool tone. “I’d hate to see you unable to date your girlfriend because you messed up with her parents.”

“Of course, sir,” Damian responded in a flat tone.

“You’ve brought the roses as I requested?”

Damian eyed the bouquet on the ground in front of his feet. “I have, sir.”

“There’s a good lad.” His father pocketed his phone after checking his reflection in it and waited for his door to open. “And remember to smile. This isn’t the end of the world.”

The words ‘it feels like it, sir’ hung at the edge of his lips, but he bit his tongue instead of releasing them. The door to his father’s side of the car opened, and he stepped out. Damian pressed his back into the car seat and took in calming breaths.

Showtime.

Damian’s door opened, and he plastered a smile to his face, as he always did. He adjusted the pale yellow dress shirt and black tie that felt more like a collar and a leash than a respectable clothing attire and picked up his perfectly polished black shoes so they didn’t get scuff marks. His father fell in step beside him. Damian kept his eyes forward.

Lifting a finger, his father rang the doorbell, and they waited.

Damian clung to the bouquet of roses in his hand like they’d somehow miraculously save him.

The door opened, revealing the most soccer mom looking woman with the most soccer mom clothes and the most soccer mom fake smile and most fake tan and wri-

“Good evening, Mrs. Hemlock,” his father greeted, his voice smooth as butter.

“Mr. Gray,” she said with a toothy grin. Her eyes turned to Damian, and he swallowed. “And Mr. Gray. It’s good to see you again.”

Damian held out the bouquet of roses, his grin never failing. “Thank you for inviting us over.”

“Oh, aren’t you the sweetest thing!” Mara’s mother scooped up the roses and hurried off to find a vase to put them in. She practically sang up the stairs, “Mara, your boyfriend is here.”

Damian could hear her eyes roll all the way down here.

"Your house is clean as always, Karen," his father purred. She started to giggle, and Damian wondered if his punishment would be worth saying what was on his mind for a second. 

A very small second. 

"John, is the lasagna ready yet?" her mother asked over her shoulder. 

"Five minutes and counting," her father replied. 

Her mother let out a nervous giggle and said, "I'm so sorry. I thought it'd be-" 

"It's not a problem at all," his father replied as he held up his hand. "We are early, after all."

Her laugh was obviously forced this time. She cleared her throat. "So, um, no Mrs. Gray again tonight?" 

"Still sick as a politician, I'm afraid. The poor dear." The smile fell for the briefest of moments before he continued, "I'm sure she would've loved your lasagna if she was able to come."

"Perhaps the next time we can go to your house," she suggested. 

"Oh I would, but Joy is a… well she tries her best, but it's not- I mean- it's an acquired taste really." 

"Oh say no more, Mr. Gray. I know a man who doesn't want to say a bad thing about his wife when I see one. You're one of the good ones."

If Damian didn't see Mara coming down the stairs in a gold shimmering dress, black high heels, and pearls around her neck, he would've commented on Mrs. Hemlock’s statement. Instead, he greeted Mara at the stairs. She held out a hand, and Damian laid a tender kiss on the knuckles. 

"Good evening, Miss Hemlock," Damian spoke in his suave tone. "You look stunning this afternoon."

"Not bad yourself," Mara replied, the grease in their well-oiled machine of etiquette choking the both of them. Damian held out an arm, and Mara took it with a hand of her own. 

"Always such a gentleman," her mother swooned. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it, Mr. Gray?"

"He does not indeed," his father said. Those dark eyes followed his son as he and Mara sat side by side on the couch. Damian allowed Mara to rest her head against his shoulder, and she burrowed into his side. 

"Save the PDA for after supper," Mara's mother scolded. 

"Relax, Karen. Don't you remember what it's like to be a teenager in love?" his father asked.

She smiled, but again her true emotion forced itself down her throat. "I suppose not."

"It's fine, really. I wouldn't want to make anyone uncomfortable. Mara's honor is far more valuable to me," Damian replied and guided Mara off his shoulder. Mara nearly snorted into her nose. 

The motion pleased her mother, who beamed and smiled for real. Damian caught his father's eye, looking for his approval, and the slight head nod told him he made the right decision. A coil in his chest unraveled. 

"Lasagna is ready," Mara's father called from the kitchen. The quartet moved to the living room and took a seat at the table. Damian made sure to pull out Mara's chair for her and scoot her toward the table after she sat. He took a seat across from her and next to his father. Mara's mother sat beside her, and her father sat at the head of the table. 

"Damian," Mara's mother spoke, "Would you like to lead the prayer?" 

Damian swallowed and said, "I would be honored."

The whole table joined hands, his father and her mother reaching across the table to do so, and closed their eyes. 

Damian closed his eyes and recited the vanilla prayer he heard so much at these godforsaken dinners. It seemed to pass inspection because as soon as he ended it, Mara's mother had the widest grin he'd ever seen on her. 

"That was lovely," she confirmed, and Damian grinned. Mara's father started to cut the lasagna up. 

"Oh just a small piece for Mara and myself, dear. We need to watch our figures."

Damian watched the grimace on Mara's face. He wished he could grab her hand under the table in solidarity, but he settled on grabbing his pants leg instead. 

The dinner went as it always did. Most of the talking was done between his father and Mara’s mother, and it was all political nonsense. He and Mara would make conversation through eye roll, strained snorts, and mocking facial expressions. Honestly, if there was anyone he was stuck at these dinners with, he was glad it was her. At least she had a sense of humor.

The meal concluded, and everyone retired to the living room. Well, everyone but Mara and Damian, who stayed behind to clean off the dishes.

Mara scrubbed rather hard at the plate in her hands, and Damian watched her as he twisted his towel around a clean plate. He set it inside the cabinet where it belonged and turned back to her.

“Now, what did that plate do to you?” Damian asked.

Mara sighed and nearly threw the plate into the strainer. Instead, she pushed it into Damian’s gut, the suds soaking his black shirt.

“I can’t take her anymore,” Mara mumbled. She looked over her shoulder to make sure her mother was out of earshot.

“I know the feeling,” Damian responded.

“Do you at least feel full?”

A frown settled on Damian’s lips, and he turned to her. “You did eat enough, didn’t you?”

“No.” Mara rolled her eyes. “She thinks I’m getting too fat, so she put me on this stupid diet.”

“If you’re fat, I’d hate to see what she thinks of-”

“Don’t say her name.”

Damian watched Mara carefully, wondering if he should poke the bear or not. He decided to leave it alone and continued drying the dishes in silence.

Mara sighed, and she leaned against the sink. Her eyes studied the water before she mumbled, “I don’t want her anywhere near this house.”

Damian rose a brow and watched her out of the corner of his eye. Mara didn’t look ready to continue the conversation, so he didn’t push it. Instead, he let her continue to vent at her own pace.

“It’s bad enough she’s black,” Mara grumbled. Her eyes widened, “No, I don’t mean-”

“I get it. We’re not exactly the easiest on the eyes.”

Mara punched Damian’s shoulder. “Don’t you say that about yourself. You’re fucking handsome.”

Damian laughed under his breath. “If you say so.”

“But you know what I’m talking about, right?”

Damian snorted. “How could I forget?”

“I mean, it’s a miracle I’m allowed to date you, but a woman? And on top of that a woman of color? I think my mom would have a stroke.”

“Would that be so bad though?”

Mara punched Damian’s shoulder again, and this time, he did laugh. Mara’s smirk confirmed her punch was more light-hearted than angry.

“Shame on you, Damian Gray, for not being charming,” she mumbled. She put the clean dish in the strainer beside her and peeked over her shoulder. “You ready for the good-bye kiss?”

“Never.”

“I have breath mints. Would that help?”

“No.”

“I meant for you.”

Damian caught the grin on Mara’s lips before he snorted, and he put the dried dish away in his hands. From the living room, he heard both his father and her mother raise their voice in laughter. 

“I don’t get how they can stand each other,” Mara continued. “I mean, I know why my mom let me date you. You’re… well, your dad is powerful and rich, but what does your dad get out of me?”

“Eye candy for his son,” Damian responded. Mara rolled her eyes. Damian continued, “A badass woman who is good at building birdhouses and fixing fences and makes all the boys in Shop class swoon. Not to mention your wit and sarcasm.”

“Flattery gets you nowhere, Mr. Gray,” Mara mocked in her mother’s tone of voice.

Damian snapped his fingers. “Aww shucks. My poor little heart.”

Mara did laugh at that, and Damian couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself either. The noise in the living room died down.

“Mara, Damian, are you almost finished?” his father called out. “I’d like to get home so we don’t keep these lovely women up past curfew.”

“Almost,” Damian responded. Mara handed him the last glass, and Damian wiped it as fast as he could. Mara extended her soapy hand, and Damian took it. They put on their best acting faces and strolled into the living room.

Mara’s mother swooned when she saw them. She stated, “Oh, I’ve never seen such a lovely pair before. You two make the cutest couple!”

“Damian, say goodnight to Mara. It’s time we get going,” his father ordered.

Damian nodded, turned to Mara, and placed a kiss once again on her knuckles. He said, “I’ll see you tomorrow at school, Miss Hemlock.”

“Of course,” Mara returned. She waited for Damian to pull away before she stood at her mother’s side. 

Damian addressed both Hemlock parents as he said, “Dinner was excellent, as always. Thank you for inviting me over.”

“Oh, of course, Mr. Gray. You are always welcome here. You give black people a good name,” Mrs. Hemlock said.

Damian’s gut boiled, but he took deep breaths to cool it down. He followed his father out, got in the car, and let out a long sigh of relief.

His father slid in his side of the car, and the door closed them both into silence. Damian tapped on his pants leg and held his breath. His father had a troubling look on his face, and Damian swallowed hard.

“They’re insufferable,” his father growled. “If I have to hear one more word about how I’m making a way in the world despite my race, I’m pulling the deal.”

Damian’s heart pounded fast in his chest. He swallowed hard and nodded his head.

His father looked over at Damian and continued, “You played your part well tonight. I know you don’t like Miss Hemlock, but thank you for taking one for the team. I’d rather you date someone like us, but if it gets her mother to invest-”

“Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Excuse me?”

Damian snapped his mouth closed, and he stared down at his knees. He didn’t realize how defensive his tone of voice was. He held his breath and chose his next words carefully. Once he organized his thoughts through the panic coursing through his body, he responded in a cool tone, “Mara and I are still friends, even if the relationship is fake. I… I don’t mind.”

His father stayed quiet beside him. Damian swallowed hard and added on a quick “sir” to try and soften the statement.

After the silence choked every nerve out of Damian’s body, his father sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He crossed one leg over the other and clicked his tongue.

“I suppose you’re right,” his father answered at last, and all the tension slipped from Damian’s body. “However, mind your tone, boy. Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

“Of course, sir.”

“You know what happens if you disrespect me.”

Damian flinched. “I do, sir.”

“Good. Now, when we get home, I expect you to get as much rest as you can for tomorrow. I can’t have you losing the first game of the season, especially with how you stuck your neck out for that sleazy running back we have. I can’t guarantee his scholarship if you fail.”

“I’ll do my best, sir.”

“I expect nothing less.”

Damian let his head tap against the hot window. He couldn’t stop his heart from trying to pound out of his chest. The silence soon disappeared into the sound of clicking keyboard keys, and Damian knew his father’s attention was gone once again thank goodness. The tension may have disappeared, but Damian’s body stayed rigid. His mind swam with different scenarios of him losing the game.

No, he couldn’t think like that. He had to stay strong. Everyone was counting on him, and he wasn’t about to let them down. Still, if he lost the first game, this was going to be a hell of a year.


End file.
